Before We Met
by Zoi no miko
Summary: Daniel had met, and loved, John Murdoch many times over long before he was called John. But John would never remember it.
1. Chapter 1

**Anthony**

Daniel Schreber often visited the bath house. They didn't like the moisture, you see, and hence rarely sought him out or followed him there. But the other reason, the one he barely even admitted to himself, was that sometimes - very very seldom, never more frequent then every few months, but sometimes - someone there would look beyond the scars, see something more than a withdrawn cripple. And he could lose himself, just for a few hours, to the pleasures of the flesh, and forget about Them and the experiments and everything else.

He couldn't let himself get attached, of course. But for the most part, these kind of men didn't come looking for that, and it was fine with him. Bad idea to fall in love with the lab rats.

When he first met the man with the dark curly hair, his name was Anthony. At first, Schreber had thought that he wouldn't, couldn't be the type, but he'd hung around as the bath house closed down, then caught his arm in the change room. "Hey... you know of any place around here to get a bite to eat? I don't visit this part of town often."

He watched him, tried to read him. He had beautiful eyes, green with little flecks of brown around the pupil. It had been a while since he'd last injected this man, and he couldn't quite remember who he was. "There is a diner - down the street and around the - corner." He hesitated, not sure if he liked the idea of actually sitting and talking to someone. It generally wasn't how things were done here. But it wasn't often that he ran into someone that he hadn't recently injected, and it was rather appealing to think about talking to someone without immediately knowing their entire life story. "Would you like me to - show you?"

They'd had a light supper and drinks, more for show than anything else, Daniel thought. But he didn't complain. The man was kind, non-judgmental, and more than a little handsome, and he found that it was somewhat refreshing, just listening to him talk, having a normal conversation like he was just like everyone else. No scars, no shady past, no thinking about his captors or the experiments.

There was a motel nearby, he knew, run down but clean, and this is where they ended up, though he couldn't remember who had first suggested it. That was more familiar territory to him, giving in to desire, returning breathless kisses that tasted rather of larger. And somehow he didn't mind when this man undressed him, because someone like this wouldn't care about the scars. They tumbled into bed, into crisp hotel sheets that felt delicious against sweat streaked bare skin. He was more gentle than Daniel had come to expect, teasing him, pleasing him with his hands and mouth before finally taking him, lifting them both to the oblivion of ecstasy that Daniel had craved so badly.

Afterward, he didn't leave, which was also strange, and not unpleasantly so. Daniel curled into him silently, letting himself relax, enjoy the warmth of his body against him.

The man's fingers stroked slowly over his chest, fingertips tracing his scars. "You're sweet, Daniel," he murmured softly, as they were drifting off to sleep. "My boyfriend left me three days ago... I really needed this."

He found one of his hands with his own, squeezing gently. "Myself as well," he replied, voice just as soft. "Thank you."

They parted ways when they woke, with an agreement to meet up again soon, which Daniel made against his better judgment. The trouble with people he hadn't injected in some time was that their number tended to be near the head of the line. Sure enough, it was only a few days later when he found himself in a room with this man at midnight, feeling his heart sink as he realized who it was that he had to imprint. But how could he seriously, realistically have hoped that it could be anything more than a few hours escape?

"I'm sorry," he said softly, and heart aching, he leaned in to kiss the sleeping lips warmly before neatly piercing his skin with the syringe and pulling the trigger.

~~TBC~~~


	2. Chapter 2

**Michael**

Daniel hadn't really expected to run into the man with the green eyes a second time, at least, not in every day life. But there he was, on a bar stool two away from him, nursing the tail end of a pint of beer. It had been over a month since he had last imprinted this man, and it took a moment for Daniel to recall what his current situation was. He wasn't the main focus of the experiment he was currently involved in, just what Daniel generally referred to as a supporting character. Husband to a woman who was sleeping with her boss to get ahead. Horrible role to play. Horrible, like everything was, like this whole city was, like everything left in his memory was. And suddenly he wanted desperately to escape it, if even for a few hours, through whatever means he could.

He regarded the man for a long moment, the slipped into the stool beside him. "You look like you could - use another drink," he said softly. "Perhaps something stronger?"

The man looked over at him, tired and sad, regarding him for a long moment. "You too, friend."

Daniel was a little surprised at the response, but found himself smiling. He motioned the bartender over and ordered two shots of whiskey, which they downed in tandem. "Mmm. That's a little - better."

The green eyed man gave a soft chuckle, and there was almost a hint of mirth in it. "Yeah, a little. Life's a bitch sometime, isn't it?" He toyed with an empty shot glass. "You here because of a woman too?"

Daniel thought about it, then gave a slow nod. "Close enough. Lets have another." They did, and it burned deliciously all the way down Daniel's throat. "Thank you. It's easier, being - with someone."

A slow nod. "It is. But better not to drink as strangers. I'm Michael."

Michael. Daniel smiled, even though the name didn't quite seem to fit him. "Daniel."

"What do you do when you're not getting fucked over by women, Daniel?"

"Believe it or not, I am - a psychiatrist," he replied after a moment. "Though sadly, I cannot seem to - help myself."

The man who was currently called Michael ordered another drink for each of them, this time a double on the rocks. He sipped it a little more leisurely. "I used to be proud," he said slowly, reflectively, "That my wife was so... motivated, so ambitious. I think it's why I fell in love with her. But in the end..." He shook his head, looking down at his drink, swirling the liquid and ice slowly in the glass. "It seems I just wasn't good enough for her."

Before he could stop himself, he'd reached over and placed his hand on top of Michael's on the bar, lightly, non-threateningly. "That isn't true. She wasn't good enough - for you."

Green eyes looked up to his, a little bleary with the whiskey. "You're sweet, Daniel," he murmured finally, just as he had that night in the motel, when he was a different person.

They drank, more slowly than before, talking about Michael's wife, about life and sadness and strength and weakness, and it wasn't at all like when he was called Anthony. There was a pain in Michael's eyes that, even though it came from a different source, was so similar to Daniel's own that that it made this talk more healing, more therapeutic than he could have ever imagined. Perhaps it was even better than when he was Anthony.

They talked for a little over an hour before last call was made, before the bar closed and the bartender not so subtly ushered them outside. Daniel was still steady on his feet - steady enough to walk, at least - though his senses were blissfully numbed, fuzzy with the whiskey in his veins.

The man named Michael stopped just outside the bar, leaning up against the side of the building. "Daniel. Psychiatrist. Doctor Daniel? Your medicine has been wonderful. Damn shame the bar had to close."

"Yes," he said softly, with a little wistful smile. "Thank you for your - company, Michael."

"I have a motel room near here," the man said, and Daniel's heart started beating wildly, though he knew that he couldn't be suggesting what he hoped he was. "And a bottle of Jack's finest. Come talk with me a while longer."

He shouldn't, Daniel knew. But he went anyway.

The bottle wasn't even half gone when Micheal reached over, catching his face with slightly clumsy fingers. "Haven't done this before," he murmured, then leaned in and kissed him.

He was rough, forceful, not like when he was Anthony, but Daniel wanted it so bad that it didn't matter. He still tasted the same under the whiskey, hands felt the same on his body, pulling him to him almost desperately, pulling at his clothes. Daniel managed to keep him away from unbuttoning his shirt, tugging the man's pants open instead, slipping down to his knees and taking his already erect cock in his mouth. He felt dull throbs of pain pull at his back, his twisted spine protesting at the position. But this was too good to let something like that stand in the way of it, so he pushed the discomfort to the back of his mind, like he so often did daily. It was worth it, to feel this man's hands tangle in his hair, to hear him groan, feel the head of his cock nudge the back of his throat as he bucked up into his mouth. He fought to control his gag reflex, swallowing him, fingers curled around his hips. Craving the pleasure of satisfying him.

He heard the man groan his name, fingers stroking restlessly over his hair and shoulders, gasping. Hips arching, rocking into his mouth. Then suddenly, pulling him back, away from him.

He looked up at him through his eyelashes, suddenly afraid. This man's imprint wasn't pre-dispositioned to same-sex attraction...

Green eyes returned his gaze, unexpectedly clear despite the alcohol. "Don't want this to be one sided, doc... just don't know how..."

He felt a rush of blood to his cheeks, among other places. "Let me - show you."

He wound up on this hands and knees, not his favourite position, but the easiest, letting the man curl over his back. Arching up against him, gasping as the man nosed aside the collar of his shirt to nip hungrily at the crook of his neck. "Hardly know you..." the man's voice was husky in his ear. "Why do I feel like I need you so badly?"

Daniel closed his eyes, rocking his hips back against him, trying to encourage him. "You can have whatever - you want from me. Please..."

It wasn't ideal, with only the cheap hotel lotion for lube, but god he wanted it, needed it so bad. It was all instincts, no more words, just hands and mouths and gasps of pleasure, bodies rocking together desperately, reaching for ecstasy. It was the man with the beautiful green eyes, and it didn't matter what his name was anymore, just that he was here, pressed against him, rocking faster into him, crying out in pleasure. Hard and rough and deep, again and again until Daniel could hardly stand it, crying out helplessly under him, shuddering, fingers clenched in the sheets. He bucked back against him, crying out as his passion crested, pulling him over the edge to blissful oblivion, gasping helplessly for breath.

He was aware, somewhere in the corner of his mind, of his lover finding climax deep inside him, crying out against his hair. Pulling away to collapse on the bed, gasping for breath, both coming down slowly from that blissful high.

He looked up, finally, to find Michael watching him, tired and sated, and his lips turned up into a generous smile. "...thanks, Doctor."

He returned the smile softly, shifting slowly so as not to trigger his protesting muscles, stretching out on the bed despite the mess. "Thank you as well. You should get some rest. You will - feel better in the morning."

The man gave a slow nod, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Daniel stayed alert, doing nothing but watching him for a long time, watching him sleep, watching the way his dark eyelashes played against his pale skin. Beautiful man. He sighed softly, then slipped out of bed, slowly, careful not to disturb him. He could stay until Michael woke up, he knew. Perhaps he would be angry, upon realizing what he'd done with alcohol-lowered inhibitions. Perhaps not. Perhaps they could even have a few days together. But he shouldn't, wouldn't do it.

Bad idea to fall in love with the lab rats. He knew that. But the realization wasn't stopping the emotion from threatening. He had to stay away from this man.

~~TBC~~


	3. Chapter 3

**David Wright**

For a few months, Daniel succeeded in staying away from the man with the green eyes and dark curls. Even implanted him with two new identities, and though he couldn't stop the reaction of his heart each time he saw the man, he kept his vow not to act on it, not to seek him out. Then, when he least expected it, the man found him.

It was shortly after the day's tuning. Time to go home, to his tiny, empty apartment, until They needed him again. He hurried along the riverfront and had just past a small restaurant, keeping his head down as he walked, trying as always to avoid attention, avoid eye contact. He bumped shoulders as he brushed past someone, and stumbled a little, apologizing softly. Then he heard a too familiar voice.

"Hey... don't I know you?"

He jerked upward at the shock of that voice, which he would recognize anywhere, and those words, which he would have never expected. He felt sharp agony blossom at the base of his spine in consequence of the sudden unexpected movement. How could he have run into him, of all people, here? How could he have been recognized? "I - I'm sorry - I don't think we've met..."

The man with the green eyes watched him, confused. "No, I'm sure I've seen you somewhere before... I'm good with faces. You're... a doctor?"

"Yes," he said, before he could stop himself, his heart pounding. How could he know that? "I am a - psychiatrist."

"Right... Dan, was it?"

"Daniel," he replied weakly, feeling like his heart was about to burst from his chest. "Daniel Schreber."

"Yes. Daniel." He smiled, the kind of smile that Daniel was sure was meant to make a woman's knees weaken and melt like warm butter. Or in this case, the knees of a certain blond haired psychiatrist. But the dark haired man didn't seem to notice, extending a hand to him in introduction. "I'm David Wright. I work at the hospital - the ER currently, unfortunately. I've probably seen you there." He paused for a moment, watching him. "This is going to sound a little strange, but... I just got off shift and was going for a bite to eat. Would you like to come with me?"

He tried to tell himself what the right choice was, what he was supposed to do, but he couldn't, not when his heart was aching so badly at the sight of him. "Thank you. I was just leaving work - myself. I would very much like to - have company."

Daniel walked with him back to the diner he had just passed, watching him, wondering, trying to ignore the fluttery nervousness in his stomach. How was this man so different? And how was it possible that he remembered his name? He couldn't, shouldn't let himself get involved. There was no telling if he would see this man again, if he would even be the same man in twelve hours. The man wasn't involved in a specific experiment at the moment, just a spare subject, so his identity was just what Daniel had always thought of filler, something to live out until he was utilized for a new experiment. He could be used at any time. But part of him, a very small part that he usually fought to keep buried, felt unfettered joy at this strange, coincidental encounter, and harboured the smallest hint of hope that perhaps this would be more than a few hours distraction.

They talked long into the night, over cups of coffee that were kept refilled silently by the otherwise absent waitress, and Daniel couldn't think of a time when he'd gone so long without thinking about Them. It had only been a couple weeks since he'd imprinted this man, so he knew his persona, his background, his entire synthesized life history. Yet somehow everything was different when it came out of his mouth. It became real.

When the clock struck three, the man now named David looked at his watch with a little sigh. "I should go... I need to catch some sleep before I have to get up and do this all over again." He was silent for a moment, regarding Daniel quietly with those lovely green eyes, and if Daniel hadn't already known from creating his imprint, he would have known now, with a certainty, that this man's current taste in companions was very compatible with his own. "You know..." he said slowly, eyes tracing the outside of his form, voice low and warm, "If you're ever in the area again, I get off at half past midnight. Just ask for me at the hospital and we can do this again."

Part of Daniel was telling him very firmly to decline, to put a stop to this insanity before he got in over his head. The rest of him was starting to realize that he was already in over his head, and was trying to convince his rational self that the best course of action to immediately figure out a way to somehow invite himself into this man's bed. He compromised, giving his companion a soft smile, feeling the tips of his ears heat up self consciously. "I would like that - very much."

The rational part of Daniel managed to hold out for two nights before he found himself at the hospital after the Tuning. Approaching the doors that lead inside to the ER, he hesitated, lingering outside, uncertain. It was one thing to have a chance encounter, like he'd had with this man's last two personae. A planned meeting, a liaison, was entirely something else, and was much closer to moving into and interacting with a world that he really didn't, and shouldn't belong in. And what of the man himself? There had been a spark between them upon meeting, but would that continue? It was so difficult to believe that such a handsome man would continue to show interest in one such as him, scarred and crippled, when he could have his pick of so much more attractive people...

"Daniel!"

Lost in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed David's exit from the hospital doors in front of him. But he did notice how the other man's eyes lit up as they met Daniel's, how he smiled that smile again, the one that threatened to leave him entirely without words, to melt every bone in his body apart from perhaps one.

He returned the smile, the greeting, a little shyly, managing to stay composed despite the lovely trembling feeling in his stomach, nerves mixed with longing. "Good evening, David. Are you available - to have dinner with me?"

David's smile widened. "I would like nothing more."

One dinner together became two the next night, then three the night after that, talking over food and coffee for hours, and that night they walked along the riverbank afterwards, continuing easy conversation. The dark haired man strolled slowly, leisurely, and Daniel knew it was purposeful to allow him to keep up with ease. It was something which he very much appreciated, even if he was too self conscious to say so. Then as they walked, the man gently slipped a hand into his, twining their fingers together. It was such a simple, gentle touch, and Daniel could hardly understand how it affected him so, heart beating fast, bringing back that most lovely, trembling feeling in his stomach, like butterflies.

"I live a block from here," said the man who was currently called David, stroking the back of Daniel's hand with his thumb. He looked over to find the dark haired man watching him with just a hint of a smile playing around his lips. "Would you like to come up for a nightcap?"

Daniel's heart stopped momentarily, then resumed at twice the pace, and for once he thanked the Stranger's eternal darkness, for the heat in his cheeks made him sure that he must be blushing most ungraciously. Why was he so affected by such simple things? He was no stranger to intimate encounters, even as infrequent as they were, and yet here he was, body behaving no more maturely than a blushing schoolboy. "Yes," he said softly. "It's very kind of you to ask."

"It's very kind of you to agree," his companion replied, with a smile that had almost a hint of cheekiness to it, which was more endearing than Daniel would have ever expected, and helped him relax a little as they turned toward the man's home.

"I'm not a big drinker," David was saying as they entered his apartment, which was very well kept and just a little on the expensive side, "so you'll have to forgive me if my liquor cabinet isn't so extensive. But I can open a bottle of wine if you like, or pour some twenty year old bourbon that's quite nice." He took Daniel's coat and hat, hanging them neatly on a walnut stand with his own coat as Daniel left his shoes at the door.

"I would like to - try your bourbon, thank you," he replied after a moment's thought, and then found the disobedient part of him continuing his train of thought out loud, before his reasonable self could stop it. "But you don't have to - ply me with alcohol - to get what you want, David." He flushed immediately upon hearing the words leave his mouth and looked away, chiding himself silently. "My apologies... that was inappropriate."

He saw the dark haired man's form turn back toward him, reaching out to cup his face gently, the touch so electric that it made Daniel draw a soft gasp before he could stop himself. Gentle pressure tilted his face back up to look at him, to see that all too alluring smile, and a look in his eyes that was more than a little promising. "It's not inappropriate at all," he replied softly, fingers slipping into Daniel's hair as he leaned down to kiss him, warm and gentle and yearning, promising more.

Daniel's lips parted under his without hesitation, yielding with the softest moan at the shiver of delight that raced through him as they connected, craving more, craving everything. His hands moved to rest lightly, shyly on David's hips, encouraging him gently closer, racing pulse beating loudly in his ears. David's kisses were warm and sweet, tasting just a little of the wine that they'd had with dinner, and he couldn't help but loose himself in the deliberate skill at which his mouth was thoroughly claimed again and again. It was very different than the clumsy, drunken kisses he'd given when he was Michael, but no less passionate, and Daniel felt the rational side of himself quiet and fade, every inch of himself giving over to the emotions and desire he felt for this man.

David drew back finally, just a little, to look at him, to catch his breath, smiling. "I don't normally hook up with people I've hardly just met," he murmured softly, running his fingers through his hair. "Don't want you to get the wrong impression. But I thought you were so sweet when I met you... I just haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

Daniel felt the tips of his ears heat up and looked down, smiling self consciously. "Sweet? I've heard that before, though I'm not sure why."

The man chuckled softly, a warm, lighthearted laugh. "Because you are." Fingertips danced lightly over Daniel's features, along his jaw, not showing any reaction to the scars under them. Then the pad of his thumb ever so lightly brushed his lips, David's voice softer, promising. "Come to bed with me?"

He couldn't say no. He felt the heat move from the tips of his ears down into his cheeks, and looked down self consciously. "Yes, I - I would like that. Very much."

The man smiled, cupping his face gently, tilting it up again to receive his kisses, warm and promising. "Sweet Daniel. You don't have anything to be shy about around me." He felt David's fingertips trace the white line of one of the scars on the side of his cheek gently, soothing. "Nothing at all." It was so gentle, so kind that it was almost overwhelming, and Daniel couldn't help but shiver, pressing closer to him, drinking in his affection, his kisses sending soft, pleasant shivers down his spine, his touch leaving tingling waves of warmth in its wake. And somehow, his memories of who this man had been before faded under this sweet affection, and he was only David, as if he'd been this gentle man his entire life. Daniel let one hand slip up to tangle in his dark curls, pulling him down into the kisses, returning them with more than a little longing.

"You're too kind," He murmured against his mouth, sighing as the man's fingers undid his jacket, smoothing over the vest underneath, stroking his chest.

A soft, happy chuckle against his mouth. "Just the truth, Daniel." He pulled back a little, one hand still gentle on his face, watching him for a long moment, longingly, and Daniel couldn't quite read the thoughts behind his green eyes, not until he spoke. "It's easy to see loneliness when it is something that factors so strongly in one's own life, isn't it?"

Of course he would be lonely. A spare subject almost always was, the imprint and interactions with others minimized to make it easier for them to be re-implanted, reassigned to an experiment. Less people to have to alter to forget about them. "Yes... so perhaps we can - help each other," Daniel breathed softly, and drew him back down to claim his mouth with his.

Afterwards they curled in bed together, their passion spent. David nestled against Daniel's chest under his chin, the dark haired man slowly calming as Daniel stroked fingers slowly through his hair and over his back. His lover raised his head finally, smiling softly, leaning into kiss him warmly. "You're amazing."

Daniel smiled shyly, giving his head a little shake. "Together we are. Thank you... so much."

His lover gave a low, warm chuckle, kissing him again, slow and languid. "Will you meet me again tonight?"

"Certainly."

"And stay here with me for now?"

He gave a little nod, arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders. "I would like that - very much."

"Good." David pulled away, finally, leaving just long enough to get a cloth to clean them both up, then curling around Daniel, both men quickly drifting off to sleep.

After that first night of intimacy, he didn't spend a night away from David, and almost two weeks passed in bliss - meeting after work, having increasingly shorter dinners, then going back to David's apartment and making love, curling together afterward and talking softly until they drifted off to sleep. He had grown dangerously attached - or perhaps he always had been - to this man's current incarnation, but as much as every bit of experience he had in this city told him that he was just setting himself up for heartbreak, he couldn't bring himself to stop. It was too beautiful, too bright and warm and wonderful in the normally cold, dark world of his everyday life.

He thought about it often, how could he not? The looming certainty that this man would be taken from him, made into someone else. He remembered all too clearly the pang of regret, the agony of loss he'd felt upon finding Anthony the target of his work, and his feelings for this man had grown so much since then. But it just deepened his resolve to enjoy this as much as he could, to make every moment of happiness count, before he lost this man again.

He tried to memorize his features, one night as they curled together after sex, the curve of his lips, the line of his jaw. He let his fingers trace slowly over his skin, following them with his eyes. Admiring the way dark eyelashes played against pale skin. This was a man far too handsome to care for one such as him, and yet somehow he did, time and time again. David caught his gaze and smiled, leaning in to nuzzle his jaw affectionately. His lips pressed gently to his skin, just under his ear, voice very soft. "Daniel. I love you."

He felt himself shudder at the words, closing his eyes tightly at the conflicting mix of joy and despair that washed through him. Don't fall in love, can't, shouldn't fall in love... "And I - am hopelessly, senselessly - in love with you." He bit his lip hard on a sob, closing off his throat. A mistake, such a mistake, but he couldn't stop himself, couldn't resist this man a third time.

Strong arms tightened around him that wouldn't protect him from Them as much as he wished they could, warm hands stroking over his hair, and David was silent for a long moment, as if he sensed Daniel's inner struggle. "Sometimes I think..." he mused slowly, voice soft, "sometimes it feels like... like you come to me every night feeling like - acting like it will be the last time we see each other." He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling back just a little to look at him, eyes mournful. "Daniel... I won't leave you..."

He swallowed hard. "I know. It isn't you that - I'm worried about," he said slowly, finally.

Gentle fingers continued to stroke through his hair. "What is it, then?"

"I - I can't explain it..."

"You can't, or you won't?" No accusation in his voice, just a simple question.

Daniel sighed. "It's... difficult. Complicated." He felt a soft kiss pressed to his forehead, and his lover curled a little closer to him, arms wrapped around him, strong and secure.

"Try me?"

He let his head rest against David's chest again, fingers stroking slow circles over his skin, trying to find words, to find some rational sounding way to explain his fear. "I... work for some very - powerful men," he said softly, finally. "They do not allow me to have - these kind of interactions with - the general public."

"I don't understand. They don't... allow you?"

He gave a slow nod. "It is complicated," he said again, softly. "I have been - very good, for a long time - in their books. However, when they find out about - this..." He stopped. He couldn't tell the truth, there was no way the man would understand. "When they find out, I will not be able to - see you again, until I can regain - their trust. It may be a very, very long time." It would be forever, he knew, at least as far as his lover was concerned. He would be implanted with a new identity immediately, Daniel was certain of that. These few stolen weeks of joy, their time together, their love, everything would cease to exist just as the identity of the man named David would.

"Daniel, that's absurd. Who are these people to say what you can and can't do? Have you gone to the police?"

He gave a soft, mirthless laugh against his skin. "They are far more powerful than the law - I am afraid."

"Then we'll hide this, we won't show any hint of this in public..."

He shook his head again. "It's not about where we - go or do not go, or what we do or - do not hide in public. They have the ability to - check up on me at any time, and it doesn't matter - where I am or what I - do. It is hard to explain, but let me say that - they are completely unpredictable. Even for me. They will find out. Sooner rather than later."

David pulled back to look at him, expression earnest. "Then let's go away. We'll hide. Leave the city."

Leave the city. Such an innocent assumption to make. "Where would we - go, David?"

"Anywhere that they don't have control over you."

He laughed, softly, and it sounded much closer to a sob. "Such a place does not - exist in this world."

"That can't be possible..."

"I've tried," he said gently, hesitating only a moment before lowering his voice more, blue eyes meeting green in misery, and he felt himself tremble against the dark haired man. "Why do you think that I - must speak like this? I can't breathe, they saw to - that. How do you think that I - obtained these scars that you never - ask me about?"

"God..." David's face went very pale, watching him sorrowfully, helplessly. "Will they hurt you for being with me?"

He gave a little shake of his head. He knew that anything was possible with them, but he wouldn't reveal that. It was a risk he was more than willing to take. "They will consider it enough of a - punishment, just to keep me from - seeing you. They wont hurt you," he added softly, heart aching at the thought of being parted from David, though the prospect of physical pain didn't seem to concern the man.

He felt David's arms tighten around him. "There's really nothing that you can do? Nothing at all?"

He closed his eyes, feeling tears escape despite himself. "I can only take what small happiness - I can find, for as long as I can."

They didn't speak of it again that night, but it seemed that David held him more closely, touched him more tenderly, and after a short while they made love again, slow and rich and intense, giving and taking and loosing themselves, taking comfort in the desperation of love and need with days that were numbered. Finally they fell asleep, curled tightly together even in dreams.

When he arrived at the hospital the next night, David wasn't outside as he normally was, and Daniel felt a shock of fear. He couldn't be gone already, they couldn't have imprinted him without his knowing, could they? It was impossible, he always worked the injections himself.

He waited outside for a few moments, fearful and uncertain, then cautiously entered the hospital, passing through the waiting room to approach the admittance desk. "Please excuse me..."

The nurse didn't pause from her work to look up. "Please take a number and sit in the waiting room."

"I'm sorry - I'm looking for - Doctor Wright..."

This time she afforded him with a glare. "Take a number."

"Daniel!" David's voice, and he looked up quickly, seeing him coming out of a door at the end of the hall, and felt a shudder of relief course through his veins, tension lifting that he didn't know he was holding in. The dark haired man smiled warmly as he reached him, and Daniel noticed his hair was still damp, and that he was dressed in a nicely fitted dark suit rather than the casual clothes he normally left the hospital in.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," David gave him a warm smile, catching his arm lightly with his fingertips. "I hope Alice didn't give you any trouble."

"No trouble at all," he replied softly, letting the other man guide him from the hospital. "You look very smart tonight - David."

His lover smiled, slipping his hand from Daniel's elbow down to lace his fingers with his. "Thank you. For the first time I don't feel under-dressed around you."

Daniel found himself laughing softly, and squeezed his hand. "You always look nice, David. No need to dress up on - my accord. This is simply what little - vanity I have left."

Green eyes glanced toward him with a little smile. "You have many more reasons than just your clothing to be vain, sweet Daniel," he remarked, letting go of his hand as they reached the street to step out and hail a cab.

Daniel watched him curiously, smiling and slipping into the cab when the door was opened for him. "Where are we going?"

"To dinner." He leaned forward to talk to the driver. "The Grand Hotel, please." Then he gave Daniel a smile, warm and almost cheeky. "The chef's table at their 5 star restaurant."

"Is it open at this - time of night?"

"For us, yes."

He felt his lips part slightly. "David... that's too much..."

His lover's smile widened a little. "Not at all. We must celebrate."

"Celebrate?" He tried to read his face. "Is there an occasion - I'm not aware of...?"

A little shake of the head, and David's hand found his, squeezing gently. "Just a celebration of us."

He looked down at his hand, then back up at him. "I don't understand... why are you doing this?"

The dark haired man watched him fondly, silent for a long moment. When he did answer, his voice was low, almost melodic. Reciting. "There is a poem that says: Do not go gentle into that good night - old age should burn and rave at close of day. Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

It struck a chord deep inside him, a soft surge of emotion, though Daniel didn't recognize the source. "It's beautiful."

David smiled, a little sadly, glancing down. "I'm a fighter, Daniel. I don't like to just accept things, just take them without doing anything about it..."

He bit his lip. "David... there is nothing, believe me..."

"I know." A soft sigh. "I believe what you said. So... let me fight like this. If you truly believe that any night could be our last, then I will treat each night as if it could be. We will make a lifetime of memories in whatever time we have."

He felt the tips of his ears heat self consciously, felt a lump catch at his throat at the sentiment. "David..."

"It doesn't matter where we go, right? That's what you said? It won't make us any more or less in danger?"

"Right..."

He smiled, squeezing his hand gently. "Then let me do this for you. Give you something to take with you."

He gave a little nod, managing to breathe a soft reply. "Thank you."

Dinner was delicious, luxurious, and for a short time, Daniel let himself forget about all their worries, pretend that he was living a normal life, loving and being loved with no threat of being parted. By the time they were finished, he was warm and feeling just a little fuzzy from the wine, full and content, happiness a warmth in his heart stronger than the liquor that warmed his limbs. They talked over coffee, the restaurant dim apart from their area, the staff leaving beyond one waitress who was polishing glassware behind the bar.

"We should - let her go home," Daniel said finally, a little regretfully.

David smiled, giving a little shake of his head. "Come walk with me on the terrace first. She's being paid to wait for us."

He hesitated, then agreed, following him out the french doors to the garden terrace that ringed the restaurant. It always amazed Daniel that plants were able to grow here, without the sun. Perhaps the strangers simply replenished them nightly, as they died. But at that moment, it was beautiful, lit with small lights along the pathways that shone softly through the foliage, and Daniel forced himself not to think about it, not to think about Them, squeezing his lover's hand gently.

For a long time, they strolled slowly through the gardens without speaking, hand in hand, stopping at the edge of the hotel terrace to look down on the cars that drove along the riverfront.

"This is beautiful," he said softly. "Thank you, David. This was a wonderful evening."

His lover turned to him with a smile, green eyes dark in the dim light, all pupil. "If - or when - this thing happens that you're afraid of... I want you to fill our days with beautiful memories to take with you..."

He felt a surge of emotion, and swallowed hard against it, though it was clearly apparent in his voice despite his efforts to control himself. "David. I already have - so many with you."

The man caught and held his left hand, squeezing it gently. "Can there be too many?" And then he moved, taking something from his pocket. Daniel felt him carefully slip something cool and hard onto the third finger of his hand, and his mind registered a ring, and he had to clutch at the terrace railing quickly with his free hand to keep from swaying. He'd been holding his breath, he realized with a shock, and he tried to gulp in more air, tried to force back the blackness that played at the edge of his vision far too easily. He felt David catch him in his arms, supporting him. "Daniel? Daniel!"

"I - I'm sorry," he gasped, holding to him, giving his head a little shake to try and clear it, shivering against him. "I'm all right, I - just need a moment..."

"Shhh," the man murmured softly, stroking his back gently, pressing his lips to his hair. "I didn't mean to upset you..."

He closed his eyes, taking comfort in his closeness. "David, I - I can't wear this... they'll know immediately..."

"It's all right," he murmured softly. "I have a chain for you as well, if you like. You can wear it around your neck. I thought you might need to hide it."

"I'm so sorry..."

"Shhh..." He pulled back just enough to look down at him, cupping his face with one hand. "No apologies. I want you to have this, even if you can't show it, even if you don't ever wear it. It's..." he hesitated, then continued. "It's the strongest symbol of devotion there is, don't you think? I... I want you to remember..."

"I could never forget you," he managed to whisper, drawing his face down to kiss him, warm and trembling. "Thank you, David. So much."

He left David's apartment shortly after the man had fallen asleep, like he often had to. He to return to the Underneath, had to mix memories for the night's tuning. But first, he needed to see to something else.

Before leaving, he pulled the gold chain from inside his shirt, undoing it and slipping the ring from his finger onto it, tucking it safely into its hiding place under his clothes. It was beautiful, a masculine gold band with a square cut diamond flanked by three smaller, square cut dark copper coloured gems on each side, set in steps along the band, and while Daniel hadn't questioned it to David, he was sure it must have cost a small fortune.

There weren't many jewelry shops in the city that ever actually opened - most specialty stores were for show, never keeping business hours in the city's eternal night. Normally he would consider this a disadvantage, but it made it much easier now to figure out where the ring had come from. There was a jewelry shop owner they had imprinted a week ago, and he took a gamble and went there now, reaching it just before the shop closed.

"I'm very sorry," he told the shop keeper, pulling the ring from inside his shirt. "I won't keep you long. I am simply wondering if this ring - comes from your shop?"

The man chuckled, not seeming to mind his last minute customer. "Yeah, I sold that ring just yesterday. It suits you."

He smiled. "It was a gift. Do you by any chance - have anything similar?"

"Come with me." The Jeweler gave him a little knowing smile, then glanced through the various display cases before unlocking one and pulling out a tray. "This is what I have in stock."

There were only a few of that design, most in gold, with different colour stones that weren't as nice as his, in his opinion. One caught his attention immediately, however. The same ring in white gold, the diamond flanked by stones of the palest green. "May I purchase - that one?"

"Would you like it sized? This is an 8." The jeweler must have seen his hesitation, because he chuckled, not unkindly. "Let me tell you the same thing I told your friend. Take this now, and if it doesn't fit, bring him back with you and we'll size it together."

He felt blood rush to the tips of his ears and nodded. "Thank you." He watched the jeweler polish the ring, packing it into a ring box and ringing it up. It did cost a small fortune, but the Strangers had left him with no want for money, a small blessing at least. He thanked the shopkeeper, tucking the box into his pocket and hurrying off. His workload for the next two nights was fairly light, and perhaps if he completed all or most of it that night, he wouldn't have to go back before the next Tuning, and could spend more time with David, who didn't have work at the hospital the next day.

When he met his lover after the tuning, David was dressed to impress again, giving him a warm smile. "Do you like Jazz, Daniel?"

He did, and said as much, and they spent the next couple hours sipping martinis in the corner of a very comfortable Jazz club, listening to the sultry tones of the singer, fingers entwined under the table, speaking together softly in low tones between songs. When the live entertainment was finished, they left, walking slowly along the riverfront toward David's apartment.

"Lets stop for a bit," Daniel said softly as they reached one of the benches that sat facing the river, and David smiled, sitting with him, slipping an arm along the back of the bench behind him.

"I always find the river so beautiful at night," the dark haired man mused softly, looking out across the surface of the water. "There's something about the play of the city lights on the water that's almost soothing."

Daniel smiled at his words, leaning into him, enjoying the warmth and closeness of his form. "It's strange, really... I walk by here all the time, but I - never really stopped to look. Not until I - met you."

David chuckled softly. "You always walk like you don't want anyone to see you. Hard to see the river when you're staring at the pavement."

Daniel gave a little shrug, smiling, knowing he was right. "Then it is a good thing that I - have you, to help me see." He was silent for a moment, glancing back to the road behind him. "This is where we - bumped into each other, I think."

"Yes... that's right, just by the diner." The arm around his shoulders squeezed gently. "A very fortunate encounter."

"Yes..." He found David's free hand with his, holding it turned it palm up, fingers of his free hand tracing the lines of his skin. Then wordlessly, he found the small velvet box in the pocket of his coat, taking it out and placing it in his opened palm.

A soft intake of breath, and he pushed the lid open with his thumb. "Daniel... just like yours..."

He found himself smiling, heart swelling at the awe and sentiment he could hear in his lovers voice. "Yes. But in your colours. Moonlight and sage."

He watched his lover trace the ring with his thumb, David's voice soft. "My sweet, eloquent Daniel..." A small shake of the head. "This is too much, I didn't want anything in return..."

Daniel leaned up to kiss him, gently, softly. "I know. But you spoke of - making beautiful memories, did you not? I want you to remember me - when you see this." He knew it was useless, knew that David would forget everything, even himself, when he was next imprinted, knew that the ring would probably be recycled by Them along with all David's other personal items. But it didn't stop him from wishing it, and the adoration in David's eyes was worth more than a thousand rings. He took the ring from the box, slipping it onto him, onto the same finger that David had put his on, placing their hands together, matching rings side by side.

"Lets go home," David murmured softly, pressing a kiss to his hair, "so I can thank you properly."


	4. Chapter 4

**David and Daniel**

It was a luxury to have an entire day with David - or at least the 12 hour period that Daniel knew made up the day. It went by too fast, however, and all too soon he found himself dressing, apologizing, speaking of an important meeting with a client that he needed to attend. Promising that it wouldn't take long. If his dark haired lover thought such a meeting was strange at such a late hour, he didn't mention it, saying only that he'd miss him and be waiting for him when he returned.

He didn't think anything of it until after the city had gone to sleep, as he followed Mr. Hand and his posse out of he underground.

There was a figure slumped in a doorway nearby, sleeping with the rest of the city, and as he glanced over, he felt his heart stop. David? Here? Had he followed him? Had he seen them Tune? He looked away quickly, trying not to show any reaction, any indication that this man was any different from the thousands of others in the city, and made a note to be somewhere else when the city woke up, anywhere that didn't involve reappearing out of that door. He finished his work quickly, nervously, falling behind the Strangers like he often did, but that was common. They didn't care, as long as the injections were complete before the Tuning ended, which they always were.

When everything was over with, he hurried back toward where he'd seen David, slowing as he neared the corner, trying to be casual in his approach. His lover had just climbed to his feet and looked more than a little disoriented, running a hand over his face, blinking muzzily.

"David? What are you - doing here?"

Green eyes looked up, confused. "I... I'm not sure. I... wanted to meet you, but... I think I... Something happened, I passed out somehow. I must have bumped my head... had the strangest nightmare..."

"What happened?" Daniel asked, steering him gently back to the road, toward his apartment.

"There was this... door, that wasn't there, and then it was there, and these men in black coats drug you through it..." he said slowly, still seeming rather disoriented. "And then the door was gone again, and I beat on the wall until my hands were bloody, but you never came back..." he sighed, and Daniel quickly, discreetly checked his lover's hands, but there was no sign of a struggle.

"I'm here now," he said softly, and his lover gave him a little mournful smile.

"Yes... but you won't be forever."

Daniel gave a soft sigh. He glanced up along the street ahead of them as they walked, and suddenly felt his blood run cold. A few blocks ahead, just close enough to make out, he could see familiar silhouettes - white skin, black hats, long black coats. He fell back behind David, keeping his voice low. "Turn the corner up here. Pretend you don't know me. Act normally, go home. Don't look back, don't wait for me. I'll meet you there - later."

"What -"

"Go!" He hissed, and reaching the corner, crossed the street to meet them. He didn't dare look back, didn't dare show any sign of familiarity toward the other man and could only pray that his lover had done as he'd asked.

He greeted them as they neared. "Mr - Hand. You are out late, yes?"

"We could say the same for you, doctor. Strange that you should be in this area."

"I wanted to - find you. There is work I wished to - complete tonight. The templates needed for tomorrow are - complex, they will require more time - than normal. I would like to complete them now - if I may."

For a moment, he thought they would call his bluff, but then the Stranger nodded. "Come with Us, then." They started to walk again, and Daniel struggled to keep up. "We passed this way to check on an inconsistency. There was a subject by the door when We left, We are concerned he saw the Tuning."

"There was no one when I - arrived," he said quickly. "I make sure, always. Perhaps it is simply a - coincidence?"

"Perhaps. We will change your pickup place, We think. To make sure. Please make sure not to attract attention to yourself, doctor. It would be most inconvenient for Us if you were followed."

"I understand," he replied. They reached the alleyway in question, and he waited patiently while they searched around in their strange way. Then Hand Tuned open a doorway, and he followed them through into the Underneath.

It was some time before he could get away, before he had finished enough work to make his excuse plausible. Then he calmly packed the newly filled syringes away, and made his way back to the surface. He took an indirect path back to David's apartment, stopping quietly every so often to make certain they weren't following. Finally he slipped into the back entrance of his apartment building and up to knock on his door.

He wasn't prepared for the speed at which the door was opened, for David to pull him into his arms, pulling his hat off to bury his face in his hair. "I thought you weren't coming back," he whispered, and Daniel returned his embrace with a little shiver, closing his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't - get away any sooner," he breathed, catching David's mouth as he pulled back, kisses trembling, yearning. Trying to push away fear, to take comfort in his embrace. "Love, they - they saw you, when you followed me."

David paled. "What did they say?"

He shook his head a little. "I played dumb, and they believed me. For now." He looked up at him, searching his eyes, not knowing how to impress on him the severity of the situation. "Love. It is absolutely imperative - that you never, ever try to follow me again - and never try to find me."

David nodded slowly, somberly. "I'm sorry... I thought you said it didn't matter..."

"If I come to you, no. It doesn't. But there are certain times and - circumstances, when they will find out about us - immediately, if you are with me or - possibly even near me. They know what you - look like now, so it is more dangerous than it was - before. I'm sorry that I cannot - explain more. Just please believe me, and - please do as I ask."

His lover looked down, arms tightening around him, voice very soft. "I'm sorry to have put you in danger."

"You didn't know." He reached up to stroke his fingers through his hair, dreading what he needed to do next, stalling as long as he could. "David..."

Green eyes looked up at him again. "Yes?"

He bit his lip. It was a gamble, he knew - trading a week for a hopefully longer time afterwards. He would check the records, check the plans for upcoming experiments as soon as he could, but in the end, he wouldn't know for sure when David's number would be up, when he would be scheduled for a new imprint. "Love... I need to lay low for a while. I am sorry."

David looked back at him, eyebrows knitting together just a little. "Lay low?"

He closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. "It is... quite likely that they will check up on me - within the next few days. I cannot chance being - near you when they do."

The crease between David's eyebrows deepened, voice very soft when he spoke. "For how long?"

He sighed. "A week, I hope. No longer than a week. Hopefully less." He couldn't gamble more than a week. It was too uncertain, not knowing how much longer this identity had.

The dark haired man closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling in a soft sigh. "I understand. Daniel..." He swallowed hard, bringing his gaze to his again. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to... to cause this."

"I know," he said again, trying to reassure him. "I know you did not mean - any harm."

David nodded with a soft sigh. "Will it always be like this? Hiding, looking around every corner... you can't do anything?"

Daniel stepped back, pulling away from him, unable to make himself meet his gaze. "Hiding is all I can do."

"Have you tried? The police -"

"They don't care about that, I have told you - that. " he murmured, wrapping his arms half around his chest. "You have no idea - what they are capable of."

His lover's lips pressed together tightly, looking helpless, almost frustrated. "Then why the hell did you ever get involved with something like that?"

He looked up, wounded, David's words slicing deep. "You think I - had a choice? They found me. They needed - my skills. I was not given a choice - in the matter."

"But surely - "

Daniel stared up at him, fighting the urge to lash out angrily against the pain. It wasn't David's fault, he didn't know... "Doctor Wright. Have you ever had to - suture you own eyelid after it has - been sliced open?"

David swallowed hard, silent for a long moment, and glanced away, ashamed. "No. No, I - I haven't. I'm sorry." He gave a long sigh. "I didn't mean to be angry with you, I'm sorry. Just... what on earth do you do for them, Daniel?"

Daniel closed his eyes, letting his head drop. "I cannot tell you that."

His lover's voice was hardly above a whisper. "Is it legal?"

"It... is not illegal." He sighed, a shudder running through him. "I'm sorry, I - can't say more. David... please believe me... I did not choose - this life. If you no longer wish - to see me... I will understand."

He felt David's arms slip around him, pull him close, press his lips to Daniel's hair. "Don't say that. I can't do without you," he murmured softly. "Didn't mean to upset you. I just hate so much that I can't protect you."

He let himself cling to him, feeling tears sting his eyes, shivering in his arms. "I'm so sorry, David," he whimpered, and gentle hands cupped his face, drawing him up for a trembling kiss.

"Shhh, love... you have nothing to be sorry about."

"I don't know how I can survive without you," Daniel whispered, miserable, closing his eyes as David began to map his face with kisses. Slipping his arms up around his neck, he caught his mouth hungrily, needing to feel, to lose himself in David. "Make love to me before I go," he whispered almost desperately, and David nodded, silently pulling him closer.

They had sex in the front entryway of his apartment, not being able to make it any farther inside, emotion and uncertainty driving them to need the intimacy all the more. Tearing at each others mouths with kisses until Daniel could hardly breathe, pulling clothes off, pushing clothes aside. Daniel was pressed back against the door, lifted, held securely and penetrated, fucked hard and deep, entirely helpless in his lover's arms. He clung to him, body shuddering under the intensity of the sensations, loving the total loss of control to someone who would never try to hurt him. Expressing desperate need and desire with hungry kisses instead of words, in the clench of his hands on his lover's skin, loosing himself in him entirely, craving so badly the oblivion he could only find with David.

Afterward they clung to each other silently, leaning back against the door and trading soft, trembling kisses, unwilling to break away, to end the intimacy. Finally David gave a soft sigh, pulling back and finding his discarded shirt, using it to tenderly clean Daniel up, helping him dress.

"You promise that you'll come back?" He asked softly, agony plainly apparent in his eyes.

Daniel nodded, leaning in to kiss him one last time. "I promise. No matter what."

He went about work as normal for a time, hiding the agony of longing and loneliness behind a cold exterior. It was all they expected from him, after all, after so long. He thought he caught sight of Mr. Hand or one of the others, a few times after the tuning when he returned home, but no one confronted him, and after a few days Hand lost the suspicious look, and everything returned to business as usual. Then he began to take quiet chances, and searched through the records, checking for any sign of a need for a subject like David. It was so difficult to know, when he wasn't fully privy to their plans, to the information they used to distinguish their subjects, and nothing he found did anything to quell his fears.

Finally, he decided to sneak up to the floor where they kept those records, praying he would be able to find something before they caught him. Part of him - the smallest part, that he fought to suppress - thought that perhaps if he found David's file, he could hide it, misfile it, or somehow keep it out of their hands long enough to let him keep his current identity, stay a spare a little bit longer...

He carried with him a pile of papers, orders for the memory templates he had created over the past few nights and for nights to come. Something to make it look like he had purpose to be there, or so he hoped.

The room was empty when he entered, which wasn't entirely unusual. The experiments were already planned for the next few nights, there would be no need to reference this material for a time. Taking a deep breath, Daniel started to work.

The files were separated by gender, and then numerically, a unique identifier for each subject regardless of what name their imprint had. The Strangers could then find them based on when the last person was imprinted, and what type of role they currently played, but Daniel had none of those abilities and could only look through them all, one by one. Thankfully, the files did bear photos of each subject, something that made his task slightly less hopeless, and as the faces passed before his eyes, he tried not to think, not to remember the dozens of imprints, identities he'd injected each one with.

He'd looked through at least a hundred files when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. One of them, one of the nameless hundreds that never had need or care to talk to him. It took every ounce of courage he had to stay calm, to keep leafing through like he was supposed to be there. Hopefully he wouldn't check with the others, wouldn't tell Mr. Hand...

The Stranger left, and Daniel gave a soft sigh of relief. He had to look faster, before anyone else came. Every inch of him wanted to run, to leave before Hand did find him. But he knew that this might be the only chance he got, once the silent one had conferred with the others he would certainly be kept from ever entering this area again.

He was so focused on getting through the files that it took him a moment to realize that he had passed David's photo, and he flipped back quickly to the file, a thrill running through him at the realization of success. Now to hide it...

"Doctor, We have not authorized you to be in this area."

The words jerked him back to reality with a shock of fear, the voice belonging to the only one of them that was more trouble than Hand, and he glanced up over the top of the cabinet he stood behind to confirm his fears. He quickly stuffed David's file into the middle of his paperwork, grabbing a handful of the others and setting them on top of the cabinets, opening several of the other drawers and doing the same. "Mr. Book. I am preparing for the - Helens experiment, for tomorrow."

The stranger crossed the room and stepped around the bank of files to him to face him, flanked by two of the others, one of which looked rather like the one Daniel had just seen. "Your work does not require these files."

"Not directly," Daniel replied, fingers tightening on the papers in his hands, trying not to let his fear show. "However, the work order mentions a template for a - subject with, ah, self-harm scars." He indicated the top sheet in the stack he held. "So I was looking for a Spare that meets the criteria - "

"We can create scars on anyone We choose, Doctor. Leave this area immediately."

"Ah yes," Daniel said quickly, "but what will you do when half of your - subjects bare scars on their wrists? I cannot imprint half your city to be - post-suicidal. Your resources will be - limited, if you do this. Perhaps it would be best - to take my advice?"

Book's eyes narrowed slightly, and Daniel only had a split second to steel himself before the blast hit, throwing him off his feet and through the air to slam into one of the file cabinets, which toppled from the blast. The landing knocked the wind out of him, and he gasped for breath, fighting desperately back the blackness that threatened his consciousness, clutching the paperwork tightly. If he passed out, or if he dropped the papers, that would be the end of it.

He managed to get control of himself and climbed stiffly to his feet, body aching, bruised from the fall. He was quietly pleased to see that a side effect of the blow had been to scatter files all over the room from the drawers he had opened and the cabinet that had been knocked over. Some even looked as though they might have fallen down the center void, the tunnel that all the floors opened onto, that ran down to where they kept the Machine. Easy to lose files that way... and a good thing. There was no way he could hide the file now, not without revealing that he'd taken it in the first place. He'd have to take it with him, and pray they wouldn't search his paperwork.

"My apologies, Mr. Book. I will - return to work, and do as you - say."

"We will not be so lenient next time," Book said sternly as he passed, and Daniel apologized again, heart beating, trying to behave as calmly as he could.

Even once he was back in his work area, he didn't dare pull the precious file from amidst the other papers, afraid to display any action out of the ordinary when they could be watching him. Thankfully, the silent one that normally helped him with his work disappeared as Daniel was finishing up, and he quickly slipped the file up underneath his vest to snuggle flush against his side before buttoning his coat over the top, and heading back to the surface.

He didn't go straight home as he had planned, but walked the few blocks extra to his office, which existed more for his own research than for seeing actual patients, of which he had none. The experiments themselves were a bit of a farce, nothing more than frivolous things to occupy his time alone. But the library, that was the reason he kept the office.

The Strangers really had no interest in books. The ones throughout the city had, he assumed, all come from the same place that they had, but seemed distributed without any rhyme or reason as to their owners, and were perhaps more for decoration than actual knowledge. His library was the only one that was fully in tact, cataloged, hundreds of books on mainly psychology and the human mind. He had convinced them that they would help him with the experiments, though in reality he used them for nothing more than his own reading and study.

He pulled a volume from the top shelf that was large enough to hide the file in and tucked it inside, then slipped it sideways behind the rest of the books, almost entirely hidden from view. There was no need to read it - he knew who David had been before. The important thing now was to keep him David.

Walking home, he passed within a block of the hospital and sighed, pausing on the street corner to look down toward it longingly. David would be due in the ER soon, and every inch of him ached to go and find him, ached for his kisses, his touch. But if Book had found his performance at all odd, then he was sure they would check up on him, and he couldn't take that risk. So he fought it down, pushed away the loneliness, and turned and headed for home. The file was hidden, so time would be on his side now, if only he could be patient and continue to keep from rousing the Stranger's suspicions.

The walk home was uneventful, and Daniel let himself lose himself to his thoughts. Finally he climbed the steps to his building, waiting in the lobby for the elevator, exhausted in the aftermath of the rush of adrenaline that stealing the file had brought. He entered the elevator as the doors opened, hitting the button for his floor, thinking back to his encounter with Book, analyzing his reactions. Perhaps he'd actually pulled it off, perhaps they wouldn't question his actions...

"Hold the door, please - " Just as the door was closing, he heard a familiar voice, and a dark-haired figure slipped through the gap.

Daniel felt his lips part, staring at him almost disbelievingly, feeling his pulse quicken. "David..."

His lover gave him a soft, tentative smile. "Hello, Daniel." When Daniel didn't respond, he lowered his head, glancing away. "I'm sorry... I didn't intend to follow you. But I saw you come in here on my way to the hospital..." David's eyes turned to his, pleading. "I needed to see you. I'll leave when the elevator stops."

Daniel tried to make himself speak, tried to tell David to go, to tell him he couldn't be sure that it was safe, but all he could think about was how long it had been since he'd seen him, touched him, how much he'd craved the sound of his voice, warm and smooth like cream. So instead, he reached over and hit the button to stop the elevator before slipping his arms up around David's neck and catching his mouth. His lover's arms wrapped tightly around his waist, returning his kisses with a soft groan, and Daniel realized he was trembling against his lover, whimpering almost helplessly into his mouth. "David - "

"Shhh..." Warm hands, stroking his hair, his back, pulling back just enough to look at him, cup his face gently. "God, I missed you so..."

He nodded ever so slightly, still not quite trusting his voice, letting David claim his mouth again, press him back against the wall, breathless and yearning. Letting desire melt the icy knot of fear in his stomach, he arched up against him, fingers tangling in David's dark curls to encourage more kisses, parting his lips to let his lover claim him, pulse racing. So good to taste him again, feel the warm press of his body, to feel David's hands dance over his sides, cup his ass to pull him closer. He didn't resist, letting his hips arch against the other man's, whimpering at the pulse of sensation it sent through him, the delicious friction of rocking slowly against him. David could do anything he wanted right now, Daniel knew, even take him right here, and he wouldn't, couldn't stop him.

"Love - !" He managed to gasp finally, panting softly as his lover pulled back from his kisses.

"Are we safe right now?" His dark haired lover asked softly, and Daniel hesitated, then nodded slowly.

"I think so, for now," he whispered. "For a little while. But you have work..."

"Shhh," David breathed again, running his thumb lightly over Daniel's bottom lip. "Is this where you live?" At Daniel's mute nod, he gave him a small smile, gaze hopeful. "May I come up? I won't stay long."

He couldn't say no, not with his lips still tingling from the kisses he craved so badly. Daniel nodded again, reaching to turn off the emergency stop on the elevator, taking him out as they reached his floor and the doors opened. He found his keys, unlocking the door and opening it, looking up at David as they stepped inside. The longing was worse, far worse now that he was here than when they were apart, and they barely made it to Daniel's couch, falling on each other with desperate kisses, hands yanking at clothing, craving contact, needing to feel.

"My sweet Daniel," David murmured, voice low and throaty, drawing him in to kiss him again, nipping at his bottom lip. His hands slipped down to cup his ass, urge him closer, seeming to very much like the way the blond was almost writhing on his lap, rocking closer, seeking more sensation.

"David," he found himself gasping, stealing his lover's breath with his kisses, fingers buried in dark curls. "Oh god, need you so..."

"You have me," David murmured, and kissed him again.

It amazed and overwhelmed him, as it always did, the effect that being with David had on him. Giving himself entirely to this man, opening up to him, displaying his vulnerabilities, it all mixed together into the most blissful emotional release, building the physical sensations far more intensely than he ever thought possible. Clinging together, pressed tight to him with his arms around David's shoulders, he buried his face to David's hair, whimpering as they joined in passion. His lover covered his neck and shoulders in warm kisses, sucking at and teasing his skin, groaning soft and low as he bit at the crook of his neck, sending a beautiful, intense flare of pain down his spine.

David's free arm tightened around his hips, helping support him as he moved on him, their voices mingling in breathless cries of pleasure, losing themselves to the passion and need of being so long apart, sensation building hard and fast and irresistible until it all broke free for both of them, leaving them shivering and breathless in the aftermath of orgasm, holding tightly to the the closeness and intimacy.

"Come meet me tonight," David murmured softly in his ear, stroking gentle fingers through his hair. "Let me sleep with you in my arms..."

He felt his cheeks flush, drawing back to look at him with a soft smile. "I'll do my best."

When David finally left for work, Daniel took a long shower and dressed, then curled up in an armchair by the apartment window to look down at the street below. He still had a few hours before the night would all begin again, but for now, he could relax. The window had never seen sunlight, but still it was nice to have a bit of a view, to watch the cars drive through the streets down below.

There was a book, hidden in amongst all the others on his shelf in his small apartment library, that looked just like the other books. A large medical dictionary, which he had carefully removed the inner pages from and replaced with blank paper, though as it turned out he probably hadn't needed to try and hide it. They'd never, as far as he knew, made any attempt to search his apartment or read his personal notes. He had written in it often, in the first days he could remember here, like it would help him hold onto hope. But he hadn't had reason to write lately, not for a very long time.

Now he wrote about David. About everything they'd done, about how David had somehow known his name when they met. The walks along the river, the way David had first kissed him. He detailed the places they'd been, the way it felt when they made love. He wrote briefly about Anthony, and Michael, and it made him smile. And finally he wrote about how he felt, how alive David made him, the warmth and beauty and hope that had entered his life when he'd given up on ever finding happiness again.

When he finally closed the book, it was almost time to leave, and he tucked it back into its place on the bookshelf with a smile. For the first time in a very long time, the thought of the night's work didn't terrify him. When it was over, he would be able to see David again.

The experiment they were initiating that night involved a woman who'd had an affair, and her husband who was recovering from attempted suicide. It hadn't occurred to him until they were outside, with the city around them asleep, that they would need to visit the hospital to place the male subject, and it made him nervous, anxious to bring the Strangers so close to David, something he tried very hard to bank down and not display.

It was their last stop for the evening. When they entered, there was nothing out of the ordinary, the waiting room filled with subjects, fast asleep. He stopped at the admitting desk with the smallest member of Hand's posse, the one in the body of the little boy - Sleep - who started to sort through the hospital records, changing and adding to them as needed. The nurse slumped over the desk was his responsibility, and he recognized her from the night he'd come here looking for David. Her imprint would not change her entire persona, just add information about the patient that was needful for their experiment. Injecting her neatly, he tucked the empty syringe back into its place in the bag and started down the hall in the direction the others had gone. He still needed to imprint the subject, and at least two of the hospital staff with knowledge about the situation like he had for the nurse.

He passed the door to the nurses station at a hallway intersection, but stopped as he caught a flick of movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look down the branch of the other hallway, and felt his whole body turn to ice at the identity of the figure that had just exited one of the hall rooms, the person more dear than anyone in the world to him... who was very much awake.

The dark haired man saw him too, and started toward him quickly. "Daniel? How did you get in here? What are you doing here?"

"Shhh!" He moved without another thought, rushing to meet him and clamping a hand over his mouth, voice a low hiss to keep him from fighting. "Don't say another word. It's not safe." He glanced around, then dragged him into the nurses station, shutting the door behind him. There were small television monitors there, he discovered with relief, which showed the hallways surrounding the station. He'd only have a few minutes before they came looking for him, and he knew he had to act fast. It was almost unheard of, for a subject to resist the order to sleep during the tuning, but when they did, the Strangers called them strays, and hunted them tirelessly until the subject was found and executed.

"What did you see?" he hissed, eyes darting to the television monitors and back to his lover.

David's voice was very low, and very tight, almost factual, trying to keep away any emotion. "The nurse I was with passed out with no warning and fell to the floor. The patient we was examining did, too. And everyone else I've run into, everyone but you. There's nothing immediately wrong with them, but they won't wake up." His voice quavered at that, and he drew a few deep breaths, though Daniel could see his hands clench into fists at his sides. He looked to the monitors as well, keeping his voice just above a whisper. "What are you watching for?"

"My employers," Daniel murmured without a second thought, more than a little afraid of being overheard. "I don't have - much time. I need you to lay on the floor - pretend to be sleeping like them - and don't move until you hear the hospital - come back to life."

"Come back to life? Daniel, what is going on? These people collapsed - "

He tore his eyes away from the screen, meeting David's gaze, pleading, trying not to panic. "I need you to - trust me. Please, love. Hurry."

Green eyes narrowed slightly, voice angry. "I'm not doing anything until you tell me what's going on."

"I will explain everything later - I promise!" He turned back to the monitors and caught a flash of movement at the end of one of the halls. "Get down!"

"Daniel - "

He set his bag up on the counter, opening it up and fumbling for and grabbing for one of the syringes in a panic. He wouldn't, could never inject it into David, but he had to come up with some reason to have been in here... "Get down or they - will kill you! Please!"

The dark haired man dropped to his knees, eyes widening as he saw the syringe. "What is that?" He made a grab for it, but Daniel had already flipped the device open, and as David tried to wrench it from him, the syringe activated, piercing his palm. Daniel yanked it back in a panic, though not before half the contents had been injected under his skin.

David drew a sharp, shuddering breath, but held in the cry of pain, clutching his hand tightly. "What the hell - "

"Get down!" Daniel squirted the rest toward the corner of the room quickly, pushing him back with strength he didn't know he had, onto his back to sprawl on the floor. He glanced up at the monitor. Hand and Quick were only a few doors away. "Lay still and don't move - no matter what!" he hissed, using the empty syringe to pierce the skin of his forehead just enough to draw blood, just as the door opened.

"Doctor. You're running late. You must hurry."

David, to his credit, lay perfectly still, eyes closed and breath even. Daniel got back to his feet carefully, forcing himself to be calm despite being more frightened than he'd ever been in his life, his heart beating fast and furious, and tucked the empty syringe back in the bag. "My apologies. I had difficulty locating - the doctor we needed."

Hand glanced behind him briefly. "He is bleeding," he observed with a note of disapproval. "You have been careless, doctor. Clean it up and complete the work in room 302. You have five minutes."

"Of course," he replied, stomach tying itself in knots, wishing they would just leave.

"Until tomorrow night, then, Doctor," Mr Hand spoke before turning. "Be Prompt. We have the imprints for the Murdoch experiment to prepare."

He nodded, giving a little shiver. They seemed a little more interested in murderers and hookers than he felt was healthy at the current moment, both of which he despised creating, and the plans for this experiment included both. He took a cotton ball from his bag, moistening it with a touch of rubbing alcohol, watching the figures retreat as he knelt down again. "Stay still, don't move yet," he murmured softly under his breath. "Meet me at the bar on the corner - by my apartment. If I'm not there by - two am, then you know they've - found me out." Standing, he grabbed his bag and left, schooling his expression to mask the bone-chilling fear inside.

He finished up and left the hospital quickly through a fire escape, just as the world around him was starting to wake up. As much as every inch of his being wanted to rush back to David, he forced himself to keep moving like nothing had happened, to return home, tucking the bag in its place under the table in the hall and having a drink of water to calm his trembling nerves. He forced himself to wait at home for half an hour, then put his coat and hat back on, heading downstairs and walking to the little bar on the corner.

He spotted David at a table at the back, sipping a glass of amber liquid over ice, and made his way over to him, slipping into the chair next to him. "How's your hand?" he asked softly as the man looked over at him, expression guarded, none too happy.

His lover held it out to him, palm up. There was a little bruising, but no swelling. "I think it will be ok, it doesn't hurt and I'm not feeling any effects for the moment. I trust that whatever was in that syringe wasn't harmful?"

He shook his head. "No, no. It should break down - harmlessly." Truthfully, he wasn't quite sure what it would do, but there was no way to find out, and it was fairly safe to assume that if it hadn't effected him yet, it wouldn't.

"Care to explain what it is you stuck me with? What does it do?"

He flushed darkly, looking up as a waitress approached them, and ordering two more of whatever David happened to be drinking. "It was - an accident, I'm sorry..." He lowered his head with a soft sigh. "You are familiar with - sodium thiopental, yes?"

Green eyes widened. "It was truth serum?"

"No, no," he said quickly, recoiling a little from his anger without meaning to. "But the idea is - similar. It is meant only for - direct cranial injection, however. It should have no effect on you in this case."

"What does it do, Daniel?" The man asked again, pointedly.

He closed his eyes for a moment, rehearsing the information he'd planned in his mind. "It... disrupts short term memory storage and - leaves the patient open to - hypnotic suggestion."

"It what?!"

He held up his hands, more than a little frightened at his anger. "Please - I will explain, just - please, keep your voice - low..."

His lover's lips pursed, pressed tightly together, but he nodded. "I'm listening."

"It's my - employers." He leaned closer, mouth almost pressed to his ear, wanting to be sure that the music would mask anything he said to anyone nearby. "They are a shadow branch of the government," he said softly, fighting down the guilt that washed over him at the onset of the lie. "They develop and test - vaccines against biological warfare agents - that have been stolen from the soviets. At least, that is the official mandate. There are other things, things that I - don't even want to know about. When they are finished with a - subject, I must ensure that their - reprogramming is successful. Then the subject is returned to the - real world. That is what we were doing - just now, at the hospital. They take care of the paperwork, they take care of everything, like nothing ever - happened."

His lover turned to look at him, and Daniel was silent for a long moment, letting him take it in, praying that it wasn't so far from reality that the doctor wouldn't be able to accept it. As horrible as he felt for lying, it was the best scenario that he could come up with that would both impress the severity of the situation on him while still being believable.

"The entire hospital was asleep," David said finally. "How..."

"They have access to some very - advanced technology, extremely secret chemical - technology. Advanced enough to target an entire building - to sleep for a very - specific amount of time. A very advanced form - of anesthesia. A substance that we have - been made immune to. Something that, it seems, you - are naturally immune to. If they find out about this - it will be very, very bad for you." He closed his eyes with a shudder, not having to fake his fear. "I'm so sorry, David. I never meant to - put you in danger."

His lover shook his head slowly. "No - no, if you hadn't been there tonight, they would have seen me, not you." He let his hand rest on Daniel's under the table. "I'm sorry I was angry with you."

He gave his head a little shake. "It's all right. They frighten me - too. David..." he turned more towards him, catching his eyes, trying to wordlessly impress on him the urgency of the situation. "If it happens again... please promise me that you will - behave like everyone else, until you see them - wake up. Please."

The dark haired man lowered his face, nodding slowly, leaning closer. "I will. I'm sorry, love. I can tell that it terrifies you." He hesitated. "Do you think we can go home?"

He smiled, feeling a soft warmth flow through his body at his words. "Yes. Please. Go ahead, I will follow you shortly. Safer to travel alone, for a while, I think. Until I can be sure that they - aren't watching."

Green eyes looked up to his, concerned. "If it's not safe..."

He shook his head slowly. "I think it should be - fine. David, I - " He stopped, shivering a little, lowering his eyes. "I can't do this without you - anymore."

David smiled, squeezing his hand gently. "I will always be here for you, love."

Daniel closed his eyes, shivering a little under his touch, wishing so badly that he could be sure of that. But perhaps... perhaps they really would have time. Perhaps he could keep him safe, keep him off the Stranger's radar indefinitely. He looked back at David, giving him a warm smile. "And I for you. As long as it is within my - power."

It struck him, then, that this was what everything really meant, what all their time together had lead to. It was more, now, then just a love affair. More than a limited time to make memories together. More than rings exchanged as keepsakes. Somehow, when he'd never expected it, he'd found this wonderful man who was willing to be with him regardless of everything, all the hardships, all the darkness. Even now, knowing what was as close to the truth about him as anyone in this city could know. Someone that he would do anything for, anything to keep safe. Stealing the file, hiding David during the Tuning, he would have never chanced to do anything like that just for himself. But he had someone to protect now.

He realized that David was watching him with a little questioning look, and he smiled, feeling the most heartbreakingly wonderful affection for him. "Head home, love. I will be there - soon."

David nodded, stretching. "At least the bartender won't have to kick us out this time."

Daniel turned to him sharply. "What?"

"Last time we were here, remember? We drank until last call..." He gave a soft chuckle under his breath. "I was so hungover the next morning."

Daniel stared at him silently for a long moment, lips parted. They'd never been here, not this time around. Not since... not since Michael. He caught himself and forced a smile to cover the shock. "Yes. Perhaps it is good that you - are not normally a drinker, yes?"

David grinned, and stood. "No kidding. See you soon."

When he returned to David's apartment, it was almost like nothing had happened other than their separation, which they made up for in David's front entryway with frantic need, taking pleasure and comfort in the display of physical desire. Afterward they curled in bed, talking softly for hours, enjoying the intimacy, having a light dinner that David threw together in his kitchen. Eventually they made love again, drawn together by mutual need and desire. It was less frantic this time, but just intense, exploring and claiming each others bodies entirely with their hands and lips before coupling, slowly driving mutual pleasure to a deep, shuddering release.

David nuzzled his hair afterward, arms around him, voice warm and sleepy. Happy. "Love you Daniel," he murmured softly. "Always and always..."

"And I you," he replied, stifling a yawn. "No matter what - happens. Promise..." With that, he let himself drift off to sleep, warm and safe.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Strangers**

It was a little ironic, Daniel reflected, that the Strangers found out the truth about his relationship with David so quickly after he went through the trouble of stealing his file. Perhaps he had roused their suspicion after all, or perhaps it was just the occasional check they had always done. Regardless of the reason, it had only been three days since the night at the hospital when he was faced with his worst fear.

"We had wondered where you'd been hiding, doctor." That voice, so well known, so abhorred, waking him from slumber. At first, Daniel thought it was a nightmare. Hoped, prayed that it was. But as his eyes flew open, as his lover sat up with a yell, he knew it wasn't.

Time was up.

He sat, fumbling for his glasses on the bedside table and putting them on. "Mr - Hand. I was just - "

"You know this is not permitted, doctor. Must We remind you the hard way?"

"Leave him alone." He felt his lover's arms slip around him from behind, holding him protectively, voice low and stern. "You have no right telling him what he can't do."

"Don't -" he tried, but the Stranger cut him off, turning his attention to the other man and regarding him curiously.

"Did he by chance tell you why this is not allowed?"

"Please -" Daniel tried, but was cut off again.

"You are Our experiment," the Stranger said plainly. "The doctor is tainting Our data."

The dark haired man was silent for a moment. "...Daniel? What does he mean?"

"It's not true," Daniel gasped, wanting more than anything for it not to be true. "Love, you are not - an experiment..."

"It is true, and it is time to move on. Doctor, come."

"Don't go," David hissed in his ear, arms tightening around him. "Whatever is going on, I don't care. Just don't go to him."

"Doctor, need We remind you of the consequences of you disobedience?"

Daniel froze, mind flashing back to the woman from so long ago, innocent, killed as a lesson to him. Remembering all the blood. He started to pull away. "I'll come. Please... don't hurt him."

His lover drew a sharp breath. "Love, don't - "

"We tire of this," Hand said suddenly, and made a motion in the air. "Sleep."

Daniel felt a soft wave of disorientation, which was all he ever felt when they made the rest of the city sleep. David shuddered behind him, but then Daniel felt his arms tighten slightly around him, heard his voice, softly pleading. "Please don't go, don't give in to them, don't leave me..."

Hand stared at him sharply, as if blaming this hiccup in his abilities on Daniel's disobedience. "Sleep. Now."

And Daniel felt his lover relax, felt the arms around him fall away for good. Hand turned away, as cold as always, and Daniel felt more hatred for him in that moment than he ever had before. "Come doctor. You have delayed Us long enough."

He forced himself to move, to pull away. Resisting now was pointless. But if he hurried, if he was careful, perhaps Hand wouldn't see, wouldn't notice the ring... He fumbled for his clothes, pulling them on quickly, slipping his hand into the pocket of his slacks and slipping the ring off discreetly. He slipped the chain off the bedside table, pocketing it as well. "Forgive me. I'm ready."

Hand gave a sharp nod and started for the door, Daniel following quickly. Behind him, the other two moved - who were they? Quick? Wall? Daniel had never cared to keep track - pulling clothes onto David, speaking to Hand in those horrid clicks.

He turned in alarm. "What are you doing?!"

"No more disobedience, Doctor. Come. You know that We must re-imprint him now," came Hand's sharp reply, and Daniel shut his mouth, feeling sick. Following him out of the apartment building, down into a quiet corner, where they opened a path to the Underneath. He glanced back a few times at the others, at David's body thrown over one shoulder, watching them walk, entirely helpless. Then he followed Mr. Hand onto a lift, leaving the others to take the next.

"Why not imprint him on the surface?"

"We will," Hand replied evenly. "But there are preparations to be done."

"What do you - "

"We will not trust you to create his imprint. Too much, We think, temptation for you. So We will use one that has already been made."

Daniel stared at him in horror for a moment, trying to find his voice, grasping desperately at the hope that he didn't mean what he thought he did. "But... the only memories that have been processed are - for the Murdoch experiment..."

"That is correct. He will be the perfect subject."

Daniel felt his stomach heave, tasted bile, and grabbed for the side of the lift suddenly, leaning over it as the remains of supper and who knew what else came up. His mind couldn't process, body couldn't handle the thought of his David being turned into a murderer - worse, a serial killer and rapist. He felt the lift stop, and held on tighter, retching again and again until he was trembling and sweating, gasping for breath, with nothing left to vomit. There was a handkerchief in his coat pocket, and he blotted his lips with it weakly, still trembling, still clutching the rail tightly.

"Are you quite finished, Doctor? We have much to do."

He nodded slowly, weakly. "Please... please don't do this. I beg of you. I'm the one to blame, I went against - your wishes. He knew nothing, don't punish him for what I've done!"

"Doctor, this is not a human court of law, this is a laboratory. We do not incur decisions based on guilt or deserving, a scientist like yourself should know that. He is Our subject, nothing more, nothing less."

Daniel shook his head, tears burning his eyes. "No. No, I - I won't imprint him, you can't make me - !" He looked up, fearfully, to find Mr. Hand watching him, with what could almost be a smirk on his face.

"Certainly, doctor. However, if We do not use the subject here, then he is of no further use to Us, and We will dispose of him."

"No - !" Daniel gave a soft sob despite himself, closing his eyes against the helplessness, the hatred he felt. "Please..."

"Then We will continue with the experiment. At least, as soon as We have finished dealing with your disobedience." With that, the lift started moving again, and Daniel could only stand there, completely devoid of hope.

They reached the center of the underneath in very little time, and Daniel followed Mr. Hand silently, miserable, trying very hard not to think of David being given that imprint, that despicable imprint. He didn't notice the strange frame-like structure that had been tuned, anchored firmly to the floor, not until Mr. Hand turned to yank off his coat, strip him of the vest and shirt, buttons popping off with the lack of care, scattering, bouncing on the hard metal floor. He closed his eyes and didn't fight it, not even when his hands were yanked up above his head and tied tightly, anchored to that beam. Pulling him up to balance precariously on his toes, his arms and spine aching from the strain, the cold of the Underneath sinking into his bones. They would beat him, but he was used to that. He could endure. None of it would be as painful as losing David.

They did nothing, however, and he hung there for a long moment in silence, wondering, trembling with the uncertainty of not knowing what would happen, stomach twisting into knots of nausea. Then he heard the movement of the wheel in the center of the room, and looked up to find his lover, awake but groggy, being strapped to it. He felt a jolt of terror. "David?"

Green eyes met his, lips parting, gasping. "Daniel!"

"I'm sorry," he whimpered, "I'm so - very sorry, love..."

"Quiet." Mr Hand, insinuating himself in front of Daniel. "We have decided that you need a more visible reminder of who you are and who you must obey, doctor."

"Why is he here?! This is my fault, please - don't hurt him!"

"If you behave yourself, there will be no need for Us to harm the subject." Mr. Hand caught up a piece of metal that stood leaning up against the frame he was tied to, a long pole with a piece of curled metal on the end. He held it up, the spiral just in front of Daniel's bare chest, and Daniel saw, felt reality shift, saw the metal grow red, steaming, felt the intense heat on his skin.

The terror of the realization of what they planned to do hit him like a blow, making him jerk against the bindings on his wrists, terror rushing icy cold over his skin. "God - no! No no no, god - no, please no...!"

He could just see David behind the Stranger, struggling against the bindings of the wheel, jerking at the leather, yelling. "What are you doing to him? Leave him alone! Daniel!"

"Gag him," Hand said simply, with a little dismissive gesture and one of the others with him moved to the wheel, doing as he asked, forcing a wad of leather between his teeth, buckling it in place. The other disappeared somewhere behind Daniel, and the doctor shuddered, trying to move back away from the red hot metal, trying to find purchase on the floor with his toes.

"Please don't!" he gasped again, and Hand narrowed his eyes.

"You will stop fighting Us, or We will dispose of him."

Daniel choked back a sob, tried to push away the wave of terror that overtook him, his body shivering helplessly, uncontrollably. He closed his eyes and tried to find his voice again, words a soft, trembling moan. "I - understand."

"Good. This will only take a moment." He lifted the steaming metal higher, and dispassionately pressed it into the center of Daniel's chest.

Searing pain shot through him, indescribably nightmarish burning agony, and Daniel realized he was screaming, trying to pull away, but there was another piece pressed to his back, white hot torture, indescribable between his shoulder blades, far worse than their knives or their blows. He smelled charcoal and sulfur and a thick, perfumy grease, and mercifully, the world around him went black.

He woke up to intense, burning pain, to the familiar acidic reek of the ammonia they'd used to wake him under his nose, burning his esophagus, making his already fragile lungs contract and spasm into a fit coughing. He struggled to pull breath, his muscles contracting all at once, trembling helplessly, the world swimming around him with the combination of it all, and between coughs, he could hear a ragged, keening cry of pain that he realized was coming from his own throat. The fire on his skin was too intense, too overwhelming, and he felt his stomach flip with the agony, and struggled to move from the bindings at his wrists enough to vomit, gagging, choking on bile.

He heard a soft noise of annoyance, and the bindings around his wrists disintegrated, letting him fall hard to the metal floor. He hardly registered the dull pain of the fall, his body caring only about expelling the acid from his lungs, from his throat, holding himself up on shaking arms as he gagged and purged until he could finally breathe again in short, sharp gasps. Then ice cold hands pressed to the center of his chest and back, pulling him upright on the floor, igniting searing pain, and he screamed again. When they pulled away it faded to a dull, thrumming ache, and slowly he was able to think again, fingers clenched at the grating under his hands, cold air touching the sweat on his bare torso and arms to chill him.

He heard the sound of muffled yells, and lifted his head towards the wheel to find David watching him with such a look of sorrow and absolute horror in his eyes. He glanced down to his chest with a shudder of revulsion, his skin red and shiny, bubbled and puckered from the now half-healed burn that spiraled above his sternum, and he felt his stomach churn again, tasted the remnants of bile in his mouth. "Oh god..."

"Stand up, Doctor. There is work to be done."

He let cold hands catch his arms, haul him to his feet, and managed to stay standing, swaying a little, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist and managing to answer. "I - understand." It seemed even harder to breathe now than before, and he fought to regulate it, fought to push back the blackness that swarmed at his vision.

"Good. Now imprint." A syringe was pressed into his hand, filled with white liquid, and he looked down at it in confusion. This wasn't a complete imprint, there were no memories inside, just the base, the chemical to erase the previous imprint. "I didn't - this isn't..."

"This is for you, Doctor. Imprint, please."

His fingers clenched around the syringe, and he felt himself sway again, blackness passing over his eyes, felt his knees weaken, and a wave of despair washed through him. He'd thought they were finished with him, thought the punishment was complete. He should have known that they would not be so forgiving. He remembered well the feeling of horror the first time he'd been forced to erase his memories, the darkness, the desolation. He couldn't do it again, not now, and his voice came out in a soft, helpless moan. "No..."

One of them moved behind him and caught him, cold hands clenched on his shoulders, keeping him steady on his feet. Mr. Hand spoke again, voice cold. "We cannot allow the risk of human emotion influencing your work, doctor. You must remember nothing of this... indiscretion. Imprint now."

"Please," he gasped with a sob, body trembling, unable to process the despair of this reality, of having this happiness, these beautiful memories completely erased. The thought of it was worse than the burn, worse than anything else they could do to him. "Please don't - take this from me. It's all I - have. I beg of you!"

"Do not try Our patience any longer, Doctor. Do as We say or it will result in this one's death, yes?"

It was useless fighting it, it always had been. What would they understand of love or need or emotion? What would they understand of his agony, his loneliness? He lifted the syringe slowly with shaking hands, trying to steel himself, to stop the helpless sobs, reaching for strength he didn't have. But he had to do this. He was the one that had brought this on himself, and he wouldn't let them do anything more to the dark haired man - to his David, because of it. He cast his gaze one last time to where his lover was still bound to the wheel, meeting his gaze helplessly. "I'm sorry," he gasped. "I love you, always - please remember, no matter what -"

"Now, Doctor!" Came the barked order, angry, and Daniel turned his gaze back to him, glaring.

"I'll do it!" he snapped, lifting the syringe to his forehead, steadying it with one hand and plunging it home, pulling the trigger through the stabbing pain. A rush of images passed before his eyes - his time with David, then Michael, then Anthony, kisses and touch and emotions draining away, memories disappearing into the blackness of nothing.

~~~~~


	6. Chapter 6

**ohn Murdoch**

The night that they initiated the Murdoch experiment began in darkness, in the cold.

Everything was black around him, and the Doctor was vaguely aware of a syringe slipping from his fingers falling to the floor, smashing. His body sagging, head lolling back, and then he was caught and supported by cold hands behind him, setting him on his feet. The same hands began to dress him, slipping his arms into a shirt, into a vest, coat, and he opened his eyes, blinking, trying to bring his mind back to reality. Trying to place where he was, trying to remember what had happened, how he'd gotten there. Numbly he moved to start to button the shirt, staring at the angry red marks on his chest, disoriented, feeling a wash of shame run through him at his own appearance. They'd... branded him? Why? "What... what did you - do...?"

"You fell asleep with the others, Doctor," Mr. Hand speaking - how long had he been standing there? "You hit your head. Most unfortunate. We were forced to mark you, to protect you against future incidents."

Mechanically, he finished buttoning his shirt, tucking it neatly into his slacks, buttoning his vest and coat. Whatever they'd done, they must have partially healed it, and his clothing didn't cause any additional pain. But try as he might, he couldn't remember falling asleep, or where he'd been when he did...

He heard a soft groan and looked up, staring at the wheel in the middle in confusion. There was a dark haired man, bound to the metal frame, gagged, watching him with a helpless, sorrowful expression. "Why is there a - subject here?"

"He is for the Murdoch experiment," Mr. Hand said dryly, moving away from him, over to the wheel. "Assist Us, Doctor."

He gave a short nod, following him, feeling stronger now that he was dressed, more connected to reality again, the awful burn marks on his chest hidden. He knelt to unbuckle the restraints around the man's ankles, then stood, unbuckling the gag. He vaguely remembered imprinting this man, but it must have been some time ago, as he couldn't recall exactly what his current identity was...

"Daniel!" The man gasped as soon as the gag came free. "Thank god - are you all right?"

He stared at him for a long moment, uncomprehending. Daniel? He wasn't Daniel anymore, hadn't been Daniel for a long time, just the Doctor, and very occasionally Schreber, in the outside world. There was no need to have a name when you spent your time with the dead and sleeping. No need for a name when you were familiar with no-one. He and this man shouldn't be anything but strangers. "How do you - know my name?"

The man went deathly pale at his words, lips parting, voice a horrified whisper after a short moment. "Oh god, love... what did they do to you?" He jerked to look at Mr. Hand, green eyes blazing with rage. "What was in that syringe? What did you do to him?!"

Daniel stared at him, uncomprehending. Love?

"Sleep," Mr. Hand said simply, touching a fingertip to his forehead, and the man slumped on the wheel, eyes falling closed. Hand gave a wave of his hand and the buckles on his wrists disappeared, letting the man sag into the arms of one of the others - Quick, Schreber recalled, who hefted the subject easily, throwing the prone form over his shoulder.

Mr. Hand was watching him silently, and spoke as he turned to look at him. "Come, Doctor. Time for work."

Around him, more strangers were arriving, taking their places in the tiers around the room and on the center platform, watching the machine. Mr. Wall stood nearby, holding Schreber's coat and hat, the bag with the night's syringes in them. A bag full of lives, full of memories he'd never have. Schreber pushed the mystery of the dark haired man from his mind and took his things, putting them on and catching up the bag, following Mr. Hand to the surface.

Just another night in the unending darkness.

Mix the memories, inject the subjects to a new life, a new identity. He'd felt bad for them, at first, but he couldn't allow himself to do that anymore. Couldn't handle emotion. He hardly even spoke to them, even when he wasn't working. It was easier, that way, though he took to speaking his thoughts aloud sometimes when he worked, as if talking to Them, though they never answered.

That night, though, something finally managed to break through the numbness. He watched as they brought the dark haired man into the hotel, followed them into the bathroom to watch them strip his clothes, place him in the bathtub. It was easier than staying in the other room with the now dead woman, the mutilated corpse. It wasn't something they did often, placing people in a sexual situation, and even less frequently in something like this. This man was to be a murderer, a serial killer, and he found himself speaking aloud as he waited for them to finish. "Of course you would be the perfect - candidate for this. Women will trust your - handsome face."

He set his bag on the floor as They finished and left, knelt awkwardly beside the tub, and found himself looking at the face for a moment, syringe in hand. He was very handsome in sleep, and looked as though he would be more so upon waking, and Schreber found himself wishing that he'd had the opportunity to see this man awake, more than the handful of times he'd seen him during implanting. He had kind of face that would have mischievous eyes and a generous smile. Not the kind of face that deserved to have this particular experiment pinned on it. Then there was the question of the strange occurrence that had happened in the underneath. The man had called him by his first name, something he hadn't heard anyone do in years. His speech was familiar, like he'd known him...

"I am truly sorry about this," he found himself saying. "When it is done, we'll - inject you again, and you won't remember killing - one bit. None of this - will be your fault." Still, something made him hesitate, made him feel something other than numbness. In another life, could they have been friends, he and this man with the pretty face? He felt a pang of guilt, the kind he tried so hard - and often failed - to bury deep inside him. With a sigh, he took the syringe from his bag. "Better this than - dead because of my refusal," he murmured, preparing the syringe and piercing that spot in the center of his forehead with practiced ease.

Then, almost as if he'd heard him, his subject moved. Piercing green eyes flew open, and as he struggled, the syringe flew out of Schreber's hand and across the room to smash against the wall - flew as if shot by a gun. He stood in a panic, darting backwards and smacking his head painfully on the pot light that hung from the ceiling.

That was no accident.

The man fell still again in the bathtub, no sign of anything wrong apart from the small red drop of blood welling up in the center of his forehead.

He'd had the most beautiful green eyes...

Schreber thought quickly. They'd told him about strays, but he'd never had one wake in the middle of imprinting. There was no telling what would happen with only a partial memory template, how the man would react upon waking. And he knew what would happen to the man when They found out - especially if they caught the doctor with him - and that was the last thing Schreber wanted. So he caught up his bag and ran, pausing only to take note of the room number, going as fast as his damaged lungs could handle, through the empty halls and out of the hotel.

His heart was racing when he reached the pay phone, and not only from exertion. There was something about this man, something beautiful and enthralling, and no matter what, he couldn't let Them get to him.

He dialed the phone, breathing a sigh of relief when the man answered. "You're confused, aren't you? Frightened? That's all right - I can help you..."

~~~~~

It wasn't until much later, back at his office, that he happened to put his hands in his pants pockets and discover the strange ring and necklace that were tucked there. He regarded them curiously for some time, then strung the ring on the chain and fastened it around his neck, tucking it to hide safely under his clothes. Where they had come from was a mystery, just like the man with the green eyes. But even though Schreber was a scientist, spending so much time working for Them had left him with an appreciation for the unknown, for things that could not perhaps be proved by mankind's current knowledge. Perhaps keeping this mystery close to his skin would bring him luck with the mystery that was John Murdoch.

Daniel had met, and loved, John Murdoch many times over long before he was called John. But John would never remember it... and neither would Daniel.

But all the chemicals in the world would not be enough to change the fate of two whose souls were intertwined.

~~finish~~


End file.
